


Unaching Scars (Which I Should Hide)

by Pearl09



Series: Ineffable One-Shots [14]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't Ask, M/M, Mutual Pining, No beta we fall like Crowley, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, also I don't know what's up with Mesopotamia either, dorklestials, most likely, no one has a brain cell, or this wouldn't have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 23:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl09/pseuds/Pearl09
Summary: Soulmates seemed like a good idea at first, to the angels. If people share the same scars as their soulmate, there's no mistaking they are supposed to be with each other. But when one of their own suddenly has the same scars that mark a demon, it's like their greatest fears have been realized. Aziraphale is sent to Earth as an outcast, hoping one day he'll meet his soulmate, even if Heaven wouldn't like it. But when the same being keeps rescuing him and hanging out for 6000 years... it's hard not to fall in love.





	Unaching Scars (Which I Should Hide)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lurlur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurlur/gifts), [WyvernQuill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyvernQuill/gifts).

> The soulmate pact is finished!! This story would have never happened without the GOBB discord, but especially not without my fellow pact members, [WyvernQuill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyvernQuill) and [Lurlur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurlur)!  
I finished out the pact by also titling my fic with a Shakespeare line, except, mine isn't well known, so here's title credit to the Tragedy of Coriolanus. I'm sure Aziraphale dragged Crowley to see that one in the Globe as well.  
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!!  
Edit: Illustration by WyvernQuill as well! <3

Before the creation of the Earth, God created angels. She knew what would become of them, of course, but that didn’t stop Her. The angels were to help with the creation of Earth, as well as keeping watch over it once everything started. She might know the significant changes that will all come in due time, but not even God’s plans are set in stone.

Some of the angels had more imagination than even God could imagine. One Archangel, obsessed with planning and charting the stars and a hopeless romantic, proposed a new idea. This idea would come to be known as soulmates. It would allow the creatures of Earth to find the one they are meant to spend their lives with. Of course, there had to be a way for them to know for sure who the right one was. The solution to that was simple. Two soulmates would share the same marks on their skin – not freckles or moles, but scars and bruises large enough to leave a lasting impression. It wouldn’t be easy to find a soulmate, but the greatest things in life always take time.

So God added that to Her plans. It wasn’t that hard to add it in, but God always has a few tricks up her sleeve, so She alters it slightly, unbeknownst to the angels.

Then, the inevitable happens. Some of the angels hang around each other, talking about God’s plans and deciding they didn’t like the way things were forming, or how they didn’t seem to know everything about them. These angels rebelled, though some were less willing than others. The loyal angels rose quickly against them, ultimately winning the fight and casting the others out. This began to be known as the Fall. The ex-angels fall into a pool of boiling sulfur, which stripped them of their angelic qualities, turning them into demons. It burned their wings too, blackening the starch white feathers and leaving burn scars on their backs at the base of their wings. This is where our story begins.

~~~

The first day the angels learned about the demons the Fallen are turning into was interesting on numerous accounts. For one, the angels got to learn about Hell and this new enemy they would have to protect Earth from. For two, they learned some more of God’s plans.

For one angel, his day has started off just like any other. Aziraphale learned of their new enemies along with all the other angels. He thought it strange that a being that used to be an angel would willingly do some of the things they were told to watch out for. Things like stealing people’s souls and tempting people away from God’s grace. Sin was a new concept he couldn’t quite grasp yet.

As he was going about his duties later, however, things began to change. Angels would walk by him with their heads low, whispering to each other. Some would stare as he walked by. All in all, it seemed the others were talking about him. It made him anxious because he didn’t know why, so he began mindlessly fiddling with his hands.

“Aziraphale,” someone calls, drawing his attention out of his nervous thoughts. “The archangels would like a word with you.”

He gulps and clenches his fists to calm down. “Absolutely. When are they available?”

“They want to see you now.”

“Oh. Of – of course.” He nods to them before setting off for the archangels.

The archangels have a designated meeting area: a small clearing blocked off by tall, imposing pillars that is off-limits to angels unless they are asked in. Considering all the whispers and stares around him today, whatever they want probably isn’t anything good.

Four archangels stand before him as he enters – apparently, the Fall didn’t discriminate. “Aziraphale,” Gabriel greets. “Thank you for meeting with us so quickly.”

“Certainly. What can I do to help?”

“Tell us, are you aware of the concept of soulmates?”

He nods. “Of course! It seems so wonderful, for the creatures and humans to be able to find the person they are supposed to love. Seems like it would make their lives easier.”

Michael cuts in and says, “And your loyalties are to Heaven, right? Not to anyone else?”

He looks horrified. “Absolutely! I wouldn’t dream of forsaking Heaven.” Dreams were an idea he had come up with, and it was one he was rather fond of.

“You have a soulmate, Aziraphale,” Uriel says bluntly. “And they’re a demon.”

Aziraphale furrows his brow. “But – that’s for the creatures of Earth! And you can only tell soulmates from their scars. How can I–”

“We don’t know why for the first part. God won’t give us an explanation. As for the second, you are scarred. Your back.”

He reaches over his shoulder suddenly, and his fingers graze the edge of the rough scar. Maybe soulmates aren’t as wonderful as he thought. The scars surround the base of his wings; the mark of a demon’s Fall.

Gabriel clears his throat. “We want your assurance that you will be loyal to Heaven and not whoever your soulmate is. We can’t have an angel consorting with the enemy.”

Aziraphale hesitates as he takes in the information. He has a soulmate. They’re a demon. Heaven wants him to forsake his soulmate and be only loyal to them. He holds his hands behind his back as he comes to a decision. “Of course.” His fingers are crossed.

He nods. “Good. Unfortunately, with your scars, you’re making some of the angels – uncomfortable. We’re placing you on Earth to guard the gate of Eden and to watch over the humans.”

Aziraphale nods curtly. “Certainly.”

“Great. You can go.”

He leaves, certain he made the right choice.

~~~

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Aziraphale was too focused on the humans to have heard.

“I said, ‘Well, that went down like a lead balloon,’” the demon repeats.

“Oh. Yes, it did, rather.”

“Bit of an overreaction if you ask me. First offense and everything.”

Aziraphale gives him a curious glance, studying him.

“I can’t see what’s so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway.”

“Well, it must be bad…” He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know his name.

“Crawly.”

“Crawly,” he repeats back. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have tempted them into it.”

He shrugs as if it wasn’t a big deal. “They just said, ‘Get up there and make some trouble.’ You don’t disobey orders from Beelzebub.”

“Who are they?”

“Who, Beelzebub?”

Aziraphale nods. It’s silent for a while as Crawly studies him, trying to figure out why he would want to know. Aziraphale shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, adjusting his robe to make sure the scars on his back are covered. “Beelzebub’s a wanker,” he finally says, turning his gaze away. “They – they don’t care about us. They’re the lord of Hell, and they don’t care about what happens unless we’re not plotting against you lot. Then they care a lot, and you want to avoid Beelzebub when they care. It usually means you’re in trouble.”

“Oh.” He hopes Beelzebub isn’t the demon that’s supposed to be his soulmate. He doesn’t think he’d like them. “Well, you are a demon. That is what you do.” He hopes changing the subject again will make Crawly forget about his question. It did seem rather suspicious, now that he thinks about it. He shifts his robe again to make sure the scars are hidden, just in case.

Crawly decides to change the subject as well. “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

Aziraphale forgot about that. He shakes his head quickly, but it’s not convincing.

“You did! It was flaming like anything.”

Aziraphale looks troubled. “I gave it away.”

“You what?”

“I gave it away!” He looks exasperatedly over at Crawly’s strange smile. “There are vicious animals! It’s going to be cold out there! They’re soulmates; I don’t want them to lose each other.”

“Oh, right.” His demeanor seems to drop, turning melancholic. “I forgot that was a thing. I guess only those with soulmates can love, huh?”

Aziraphale looks over to him and sees the sun casting a glow around his head as it reflects off of his stray hairs, like a broken halo. He swallows down the strange fluttering of his heart and says, “God’s plans are ineffable.” He doesn’t know how else to answer that. When the rain starts, he barely even thinks before lifting his wing to shelter Crawly.

~~~

“So how do they know the animals are soulmates?”

Aziraphale sighs. “Crawly…”

“What! I’m being serious! If God really wants to drown everyone here and is having Noah fill that boat with animal pairs, I wouldn’t put it past Her to split up the soulmates too!”

The people around them chatter aimlessly, occasionally taunting Noah and his family as they corral the last of the animals up the wooden plank into the ark. Because of this, they are paying no attention to the strange conversation Aziraphale and Crawly are having. Strange to humans, yes, but for the angel and demon, this was a typical Tuesday conversation.

“She’s made sure they only have soulmates. I don’t know how. Maybe they were already together or something when Noah found them.”

Crawly sniggers. “What if he walked in on them fu–”

“Crawly!” Aziraphale’s cheeks flush pink with embarrassment.

“Sorry! Sorry. I forgot how flustered you get. I’m used to taunting Ligur; they’ve been dealing with my paperwork recently.”

Aziraphale perks up. “Ligur?” That’s a name he hasn’t heard yet. He subconsciously adjusts his robe, making sure his scars are hidden. It’s a habit he’s picked up whenever someone mentions soulmates, or if he starts to think about them. Any mention of a demon other than Crawly causes this reaction.

He nods, completely unaware of Aziraphale’s slight shifting. “Ligur’s an ass. Barely cares about the paperwork I turn in. So I like to keep him on his toes when I have to face him. Him and that damn chameleon on his head. One of the hands sticks to his forehead, and it creeped me out the first time I saw it. Thought it was a baby’s hand.”

“Why, that sounds horrible!”

“Yep,” he drawls. “What’s even worse – I’d believe it if it was.”

Aziraphale gulps. Ligur doesn’t sound like the ideal soulmate for him either.

“You know, now that I think about it – how do the animals even know who their soulmates are?”

He sighs again but is secretly grateful for the topic change.

“The scars would be hidden under their fur! Are they gonna nuzzle the spots their own scars are at? Lick them? Do they even have the brain capacity to know they have scars?”

“You have a snake form, don’t you? You could ask them. I don’t have an answer for you.”

Crawly lights up. “Angel, you’re a genius!” He throws his arms around his shoulders and squeezes in a quick hug before running off towards the ark. Aziraphale shakes his head as he watches him leave, a fond smile creeping its way onto his face and a churning feeling in his stomach.

~~~

Crawly wasn’t supposed to be there. Caesar wasn’t his, so he should have been somewhere else in the world, trying to add another soul to Hell’s ranks. But when he heard plans of destroying the city, he rushed there as quickly as he could.

Aziraphale had grown excited by the idea of humans collecting scrolls and tomes in one large area for public access and had mentioned the last time their paths crossed that he was planning a trip to the largest collection there is. It was called the Library of Alexandria. It does sound a bit pretentious, but Crawly doesn’t have time to think about that as he flies over the city, orange flames licking high into the night sky. The fire has taken over the city, producing its ghastly smoke and sewing destruction wherever it goes. He can imagine Hastur’s greedy smile at the pain he’s causing, the bastard.

The library is the biggest building there, so it’s easy to discern among the flame-kissed city. He lands in the street where a couple of stray civilians struggle uselessly to put the fire out.

“Get out of here!” he roars over the crackling flames and crumbling structures. There’s suddenly a path right through the fire in the direction he’s pointing.

“There’s still someone in there!” A man answers desperately.

“I’ll get him. You go!” It had to be Aziraphale stuck inside. Always self-sacrificing, always trying to keep the humans safe. It would make sense he had become trapped.

Smoke fills his lungs as he brushes through the fire enveloping the doorway, a familiar feeling that tries to stir up unwanted memories. He pushes them away forcefully, mind zeroing in on the one thing important. Aziraphale. The angel. The first being to show him kindness in God knows how long. The one who puts everyone else above himself. The one who would do anything to protect what he enjoys. The one – “Aziraphale!”

He rushes through the room when he spots the tattered toga, gray with ashes. Aziraphale lay unconscious on the ground, but miraculously, he wasn’t significantly hurt. Crowley scoops him off of the floor before the flames can claim another victim, and, with one powerful push of his wings, they soar out of the hole in the roof, back into the clear air.

Crowley weaves through plumes of smoke until they’re finally outside of the city on its way to ashes. The fire won’t reach them anymore as he settles on a faraway hill, laying Aziraphale down on the grass and carefully looking over him again for any injuries. A few gashes on his face trail blood down his cheeks, but with a careful hand, Crowley heals them, not leaving the slightest trace. His own face tingles, so he scratches at it before going back to healing Aziraphale. It’s when he gently turns him over to assess the back of him that things change.

His toga has fallen slightly, revealing two peaking burn scars at the top of his back. Crowley pulls the toga down, afraid he was burned in the fire, but he quickly realizes they aren’t fresh burns. They’re scars. And from the looks of it, they have to be at least a few millennia old. Gulping, he pulls it down further, hoping it isn’t what he thinks it is. But when the scars stop not far after where the base of his wings would be, he knows it to be true.

Quickly replacing the toga, Crowley flips Aziraphale over again, feeling ashamed for this breach of privacy. He sits on the hard ground next to him, hugging his knees to his chest as the reality of his discovery sinks in. Aziraphale has scars. And not just any scars, but demon scars. A quick check on his aura reveals that he is definitely still an angel. That means Aziraphale somehow has a soulmate. Who’s a demon. And while no one's scar is the same, they’re all too close to be able to tell exactly. A pain in his chest causes a sharp inhale, and another realization hits him over the head with a baseball bat.

He’s in love with Aziraphale.

And now he doesn’t know Aziraphale could love him back.

He never realized before, how much he admired the sun lighting up his soft curls, or the way his mouth would curve into a smile as he talked about something he liked, or how his eyes seemed to light up every time he saw Crowley. He didn’t notice he was in love until now; until reality had to tear it to shreds in the same moment.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale croaks, hours later when the sun is peaking over the horizon.

“Angel,” he says, finally moving from his almost fetal position. 

“Crowley? What-where–”

“I found you unconscious in the library. Pulled you out before the flames could get to you. Then I... healed your wounds. And I found your scars. I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale blinks a few times before sitting up, taking in what Crowley just said. He decides to tackle the little one first. “So the library–”

“Gone. The whole town is. The fire was too out of control when I arrived.”

“Oh.” He pulls his knees close to his chest, taking a similar position Crowley just left. “And you – found my scars.”

“I didn’t mean to. I just–” What does he say? What justification does he have for rescuing an angel? If Hell finds out–

“It’s fine,” Aziraphale says before he can say anything else. “You were bound to find out eventually, I suppose.” He rubs his hands up and down his biceps. “Seems silly, huh? An angel’s soul bound to a demon’s. Everyone in Heaven seems to think that, anyway.”

“No,” Crowley says, a comforting hand coming to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “It doesn’t make me think any different of you.”

Aziraphale smiles weakly at him. “It’s okay if it does. I understand.”

“It doesn’t. I promise.” And to prove his point, he sits next to Aziraphale, snaking his arm around his shoulders and pulling him close as they watch the rest of the fires in the distant city burn out.

~~~

Aziraphale was told to wait and watch over the crowd gathered to watch Jesus die. He supposes it was in case they decided to retaliate somehow, but it was nasty business to stand around and watch the poor souls on the crosses slowly die. He’s only glad Crawly – no, it’s Crowley, now – offered to keep him company. It helps ease the guilt and dismay pitting in his stomach. 

“Poor bugger didn’t have a soulmate,” Crowley says, kicking a rock out from under her shoe. “Told me that when I met him. I suppose as the son of God; you aren’t really supposed to fall in love with anyone.”

“I do think the problem is quite the opposite. I think, as the son of God, he’s supposed to love everyone. So maybe – maybe everyone is his soulmate.”

Crowley rolls her eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, angel. If everyone's his soulmate, he’d be marked and scarred beyond recognition.”

“Oh. Right.” He ponders this for a moment. “Must be platonic love, I guess.”

“Like angels too, right? Guess that completely eliminates us demons from the playing board, huh.” She kicks at another rock. “Guess we aren’t supposed to love.”

“Mostly,” Aziraphale mutters, shifting his robe again. “Not every angel or demon. But, God’s plans are –”

He’s cut off by a groan. “Will you stop with the ineffable thing, please? Ineffable this, ineffable that, it’s all damn ineffable annoying.”

“Sorry.”

Silence stretches out after that. It probably wasn’t the best time for them to talk, anyway, with three people suffering not that far away from them. But when silence stretches between them, it leads to Aziraphale fretting with his hands, looking over the restless crowd and confusion building in his chest. First the flood, now this – not including countless others he wasn’t present for. Why make Earth if the humans are only going to suffer under Heaven’s choices?

Crowley places a hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stilling his movements. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Aziraphale nods quickly, looking away. “Do you, uh, do you have anything you need to do?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Hastur got Cesear and the whole Roman emperor line along with him, so I can take a break for a while until Rome falls, which it’s bound to do eventually under Hell’s control.

“Hastur?”

“He’s got a funky little frog on his head,” Crowley starts, used to Aziraphale’s questions by now. Plus, she now knows the reason why. It’s hard to forget the sudden heartbreak when she found out Aziraphale had a soulmate, even if she seemed to forget a few moments ago. It made her bitter, really, thinking there was someone out there meant for Aziraphale – someone that more than likely wasn’t her. The universe would never be kind enough to grant her what she desires. Still, she hesitates on what to say next. “He’s not – terrible, I guess. Could be worse. He’s definitely old-fashioned.” There isn’t really anything nice you can say about a demon, but yet she finds herself trying anyway, to make Aziraphale feel better. Aziraphale’s soulmate is out there, somewhere, and she doesn’t want him to fear finding them. She just wants him to be happy.

“Why do all these other demons have animals, and you don’t?”

“Beats me,” she says with a shrug. “I have this little tattoo, and the eyes, but that’s it.”

“Hmmm.” Hastur doesn’t sound nearly as bad as the other demon’s Crowley has mentioned, but – if he was the one who corrupted Caesar, then he was the one responsible for burning Alexandria. Not a good match, he decides. When he risks a glance up at Crowley and sees the wind gently blowing her exposed curls, he looks away again, silently cursing whoever had the idea of soulmates in the first place.

~~~

“How can you stand this?” Crowley asks, the brief intermission during Hamlet just starting.

“Stand what?”

Crowley rolls his eyes. “Oh, yes, silly me. Watching Ophelia go crazy because Hamlet, her soulmate, is ignoring and rejecting her. The play is absolutely boring. Nothing strange at all.”

“You just don’t know how to appreciate art,” Aziraphale scoffs.

“Angel, I’m just worried.”

“Why, because you’re afraid I’m watching to ease my own pain?” he spits back, immediately regretting it. “Sorry.”

“You’re watching tragic soulmate shows because you relate to them, aren’t you?”

“Did I ever tell you why I was tasked with guarding the gate of Eden?

It seemed like a sudden change of topic, to bring Eden into this conversation, but somehow, Crowley gets the feeling they correlate. He shakes his head.

“I was sent to Earth because the other angels were uncomfortable. Scared, even. No one expected the angels to have a soulmate, much less a demon. So, here, on Earth, the angels can forget about the abomination.” He grips the wooden railing in front of him tightly. “These couples seem like nothing compared to myself.”

Crowley furrows his eyebrows and casts a scathing glance towards the heavens. “You’re not an abomination. You’re – you’re the kindest angel I’ve ever met.”

“That’s not saying much. You’ve only met me.”

“You’d be incorrect in thinking that! Dagon and I ran into someone not that long ago. Don’t remember who, but all I can remember is they were a prick.”

Aziraphale perks up. “Dagon?”

“Very organized demon, that one. ‘Lord of the files.’ Keeps all the paperwork in line.” He leaves out how threatening Dagon can be when the paperwork isn’t in order.

Dagon doesn’t sound terrible, if Aziraphale thinks about it. Definitely better than the other demons Crowley has mentioned. Still, it doesn’t quite sound right. If he really wants to find them, he should look into taking a different approach. The play resumes, and Crowley’s hand finds its way on top of Aziraphale’s, rubbing comforting circles into it.

~~~

“You come here for crepes often, angel? Seems you have your order memorized.”

“I just know what I like, thank you very much.”

Crowley rolls his eyes. “Yeah, so you come here dressed as an upper-class member and almost get discorporated.”

Aziraphale stuffs his mouth with a forkful of crepe to avoid answering. He had, in fact, visited multiple times. He found a certain pleasure in food that helped to distract him from reality. He never had a problem in France before, and he had no idea there was a revolution going on, so he supposes it was his fault. He’s only glad Crowley appeared to rescue him from the prison, letting him eat crepes.

If Crowley hadn’t shown up, he would probably have discorporated by now. Back in Heaven, explaining how he’d lost his head – and not metaphorically. He certainly didn’t want to go back there any time soon. Especially not after that letter.

“Say, angel. You’re being uncharacteristically quiet. Are you okay?”

“Absolutely tickety-boo,” he answers after he swallows. “I am eating, though. It’s only polite to not talk with your mouth full.”

“Hell doesn’t care about common courtesies. Trust me; I’m used to it. After that one time with Eric...” he trails off, letting the name hang in the air. It’s unusually silent as he waits for Aziraphale’s inevitable question of, ‘Who is Eric?’ When Aziraphale swallows and continues with another bite instead of a question, Crowley’s expression turns serious. “Angel, what was in that letter Gabriel sent you?”

Aziraphale sighs and sets his fork down. “Was I really being that obvious?”

“I’ve seen you around on and off again for some five millennia. Every time I mention a demon, you ask about them. Except today. So, I ask again, what was in that letter?”

He thinks back on it, wondering what to cut from the letter so it doesn’t sound as bad to Crowley. “Told me I was using too many soulmate finding miracles,” he says finally.

Crowley blesses under his breath. “Were you using them on you, or–”

“They were mostly for humans to find each other. Said I need to stop interfering with the Divine Plan; they should find each other themselves.”

His mostly still hangs in the air, making for an uncomfortable silence. When he goes to pick up his fork again, he hesitates, resting it back down on the plate and pushing the last few bites away.

Crowley leaps up suddenly at this, offering Aziraphale his arm. “Come on, angel.”

“Where are we going?”

“If helping people find their soulmates isn’t something for an angel to do, then it sounds like the perfect thing for a demon to do to upset Heaven.”

Aziraphale smiles, taking Crowley’s arm as he stands and letting him lead them out of the shop. “I must tag along, shouldn’t I, to stop a demon’s plans. But oh, a curse so strong as to force a soulmate into finding their other half sounds like something beyond my power.”

Crowley laughs along with him at his little joke, but it’s mostly fake. Mostly. If he could, he’d scour all of Hell just to find the one who is supposed to be Aziraphale’s. The end times will come eventually – he’d hate for them never to meet because the demon was slain in Armageddon. Not Aziraphale, though. He would never let anyone lay a hand on Aziraphale. No matter the personal cost.

~~~

Aziraphale stares after Crowley in shock.

“Lift home?”

He says it so casually, like he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. Because everyone has those days where they blow up a church full of Nazis and saves their friend’s books when they forget about them.

Aziraphale doesn’t answer right away. He’s still trying to process the events of the past few minutes; harness his racing thoughts. There was Crowley, offering him a ride home. Crowley, who saved his books. Crowley, who re-directed the german planes to bomb the church, saving him from the Nazis. Crowley, who followed him into the church to save him, when it burned his feet.

“Angel?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m coming.” He starts forward again, tying his thoughts up in a loose knot to unravel later. 

Later turns out to be only a few minutes. Crowley’s focused on getting them back safe, so the ride is relatively quiet. The perfect time for the thoughts to break free. He studies Crowley out of the corner of his eye. He knows the line of his jaw by heart, and the crook of his nose. He can see the yellow of his eyes behind the glasses from this angle, sparkling in the scattered light. He remembers all the times he has ever looked at Crowley; all the strange feelings forming in his chest and his stomach. He finally has a name for it.

Love.

He loves Crowley. He has for a while, and is only just realizing it.

But why would he love Aziraphale back?

Aziraphale has a soulmate, and all he’s ever done is focus on that. Crowley’s been ever so helpful in answering his questions and trying to make him feel better about them, but suddenly, he feels he doesn’t deserve it. All he’s ever been is selfish. 

He didn’t even realize they were back at the bookshop until the car came to a complete stop. He looks over quickly, going on auto-pilot as he says, “Oh, thank you, my dear boy.”

Crowley rolls his eyes. “I thought I said to shut up about that.”

“Oh, right.” With one hand on the door handle, he hesitates, wondering if he should ask Crowley to stay. He grips the bag of books tighter, and his momentum carries him out of the door and closes it behind him. He steps back onto the sidewalk, and the engine starts again, squealing tires leading to him staring after the fading tailgate, regret on the tip of his tongue.

~~~

The next time Aziraphale is in the car, he’s fidgeting impatiently. It was one thing for Crowley to offer him a ride, but it was something entirely different to miracle himself into the empty car and wait for him.

As he waits for Crowley to return, he goes over everything in his head. Crowley had asked about getting Holy Water a few decades ago. Aziraphale refused. Now, he found out Crowley was planning to rob a church so that he could get the Holy Water. Aziraphale couldn’t let him risk it. He couldn’t bear the thought of Crowley getting into trouble all because Aziraphale wouldn’t hand it over.

“What are you doing here?” Crowley asks after he slides into the car, noticing Aziraphale.

“I needed a word with you.”

“What?”

Aziraphale takes a deep breath and explains to Crowley about how he heard what was going on and about how dangerous it is for him to seek Holy Water. Crowley seemed annoyed at it until Aziraphale produced the thermos.

“Don’t go unscrewing the top.”

Crowley carefully, reverently, takes the flask from him, cradling it in his hands. “It’s the real thing?”

“The holiest.”

“After everything you’ve said?”

Aziraphale nods. “Just – be careful with it. It could – it could hurt the one I love.”

“Yes, I understand. Your soulmate.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale repeats with a nervous chuckle. “That’s what I meant.”

“Should I say thank you?” Crowley asks, finally looking back over at Aziraphale.

“Better not. I should get going.” He opens the door and moves to step out.

“Let me give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.”

Aziraphale pauses. As much as he wants to, he can’t. There’s too much he wants to say; too much he knows won’t end well. “You go too fast for me, Crowley,” he says instead, and closes the door behind him. He steps onto the sidewalk, adjusting his collar and bowtie before walking back to the bookshop, refusing to look at the car still sitting behind him.

~~~

Raising the antichrist is tough work, but if it works out as planned, it will be worth it.

Aziraphale, disguised as a gardener, influences the young boy, Warlock, when he is out and about in the yard during the day, and Crowley, disguised as the Nanny, takes care of him the rest of the night. It seems to be going quite well, for how young Warlock is so far, and the best part is, Heaven and Hell don’t seem to know they are working together.

Of course, children always have questions. And when they first find out about soulmates, it tends to be the only thing they talk about.

“Nanny, do you have a soulmate?”

She freezes at the sudden question, her hand and the plate staying under the running water as she cleans the dishes. She never refuses to answer a question of his, as a rule, but this one takes her longer to come up with a response.

“Not that I know of.”

“Don’t you want one?”

She sets the plate on the drying rack, using the opportunity to stare out the window, watching Brother Francis feed the birds and occasionally pull up a stray weed he found. “No,” she answers bitterly. “I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone, Warlock. Soulmates are stupid. They mean that those you may fall in love with may never; can never be yours. The whole system is rigged. Love may make one or two people happy, but someone will always be disappointed or heartbroken. Don’t forget that.”

“But mommy and daddy are soulmates!”

“And look at how happy they are,” she mutters. “What’s with the sudden interest in soulmates anyway?”

“It was on the telly last night.”

She turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you were sent to bed without it last night?”

“I snuck out of my room when everyone was asleep,” he answers with a smile, which only grows wider when a sweet appears out of Ashtoreth’s pocket and is discreetly pushed across the table to him.

“How about you go outside and bother Brother Francis for a while? I need to finish up the dishes.”

“Okay!” He slides off the chair and runs to the door, reaching up to grab the handle. Racing off into the grass, he finds Brother Francis helping a bird who seems to have broken a wing.

“Ah, young master Warlock!” He greets. “What brings you outside today?”

“Nanny is doing dishes. Do animals have soulmates?”

“Indeed they do! This poor thing seems to have broken her wing. It won’t leave a scar, though, so her soulmate won’t have a mark.” He repositions her wing carefully, and, using a small miracle, heals it for her. He then sits her in the birdbath and turns his attention back to Warlock. “Why are you so interested in soulmates?”

He shrugs. He knows how Brother Francis feels about defying his parents and his Nanny, so he doesn’t answer truthfully. “Do you have a soulmate?” he asks instead.

Brother Francis pauses, barely holding himself back from reaching behind to trace the edge of his scar. “I do.”

Warlock’s face lights up. “Who are they? Can I meet them?”

“Oh, I haven’t found them yet,” he responds truthfully, glancing over to the house. “Soulmates are a beautiful thing, Warlock, letting people find those who will complete them. But sometimes – sometimes it just doesn’t work out. It’s very hard to find the person you’re supposed to be with when you might not have many scars, so you might accidentally fall in love with someone else before you meet them.”

“That’s stupid,” he says, sticking his bottom lip out in a frown. “They don’t do that on the telly.”

“Yes, well, those old shows do like to overly dramatize everything. Don’t you worry about it, I’m sure everything will turn out fine.” Frankly, he’s not even sure the antichrist would have a soulmate, but he’s not about to make the child feel bad over that. Best to keep his childhood innocence intact before he loses it all when he ends the world. Hopefully, though, it won’t come to that.

~~~

When it came to Armageddon, Aziraphale certainly wasn’t expecting to just stand there and watch everything turn normal.

He had done so much in preparation, too – using the prophecy book to find the real antichrist, refusing to run away with Crowley and face the problem head-on, and even trying to convince Heaven that they could stop the antichrist. He never thought the Antichrist would do everything on his own with his friends. It might have even been boring, actually, if it wasn’t for the fact that they were literally killing the horsemen. Well, temporarily disposing of them, more like. But he knew what he had to do when Gabriel showed. He’s waited a long time for this.

“I will not shut my mouth,” he says icily, “And, quite frankly, you have no business here. If Heaven and Hell really want to fight, then find a different battlefield. Earth shouldn’t be the in-between when no one here has done anything wrong. Humans are humans, and you should continue to let them be humans. They have their love, their soulmates; leave them alone. And, on the topic of soulmates, how dare you try and control someone’s love? How dare you assume you can keep someone from their love? Soulmates exist to bring people together, not keep them apart. It’s all part of the Ineffable Plan.”

Gabriel flounders under Aziraphale's sudden outburst, giving Crowley time to step in and shut down Beelzebub and Gabriel’s protests by explaining how the Ineffable Plan is, in fact, different from the Great Plan, except they can’t possibly understand what it’s supposed to be.

Then Satan comes to the surface to yell at Adam for not starting Armageddon, but with some encouraging words from Aziraphale and Crowley, Adam gets rid of him, forcing him back into the deepest pits of Hell and saving the world for the second time today. 

He is reminded that the bookshop no longer exists as he and Crowley sit and wait for a ride back to London since the Bentley exploded. Crowley barely hesitates to offer his flat to Aziraphale for the night, and that certainly sounds better than being alone in a hotel room. After his outburst at Gabriel earlier, he thinks it’s finally time to confess a few things. Taking a chance as they get on the bus, Aziraphale grabs Crowley’s hand as they sit, intertwining their fingers between them. Crowley seems to tense up, but he doesn’t move his hand away, so Aziraphale accepts the small victory.

Later, as he’s stirring the cocoa Crowley made for him, he starts the conversation before his nerves can get the best of him. “Say, Crowley, I’ve been thinking.”

“Mmm, must be cautious then,” Crowley responds, taking a swig of his whiskey. “Last time you were thinking, you got yourself discorporated.”

“Oh, there really is no need for that,” he frowns before continuing. “This is a rather important matter. I’m afraid Heaven and Hell aren’t going to leave us alone for long after interrupting their plans.”

Crowley tilts his bottle in agreement.

“So, I want to get this off of my chest before I can’t any longer. I’ve decided I no longer care who my soulmate is. I’ve only ever heard tales of the other demons from you, besides our brief meeting today with Beelzebub, and, quite frankly, I don’t think any of them are sound like the one for me. Forgive me, Lord, but – fuck the soulmate bond.”

Crowley spits out the sip of whiskey he had taken, slamming his fist on the table. “I’m sorry, _what?_”

“I don’t want any of the demons in Hell. I don’t want anyone other than who I’ve picked. And that’s you, my dear.”

“_What?!”_

“I – I love you, Crowley. Coming to terms with that has been – hard, but I don’t care what Heaven says anymore. I only want you, for now and forever, if you’ll let me. Even if forever only lasts until tomorrow, I just want – I just wanted you to know before I lost this chance.”

“Angel, I…” he trails off, looking into Aziraphale’s expectant eyes, the tiniest spark of hope sparkling amidst the sea of blue. “I can’t. Not like this.”

Aziraphale’s face falls. “I’m – I’m sorry.”

“No, no, please don’t apologize. It’s just – you have a soulmate. Your love should be going to them, not to me. You wouldn’t be happy with me. Not if I’m not your soulmate. Sure Heaven and Hell might come after us soon, but – but I couldn’t bear even one night knowing there’s someone out there made for you. No matter how I feel. I’m the one that should be sorry, angel, I…” he trails off, something on Aziraphale’s skin catching his eye. He was fidgeting with his sleeves as he listened to Crowley, and now a darkened scar peeks out from under it on his right arm. “What’s that on your arm?”

Aziraphale seems confused by the sudden topic change, trying to form a plan to convince Crowley he’s the only one he wants while Crowley was talking. He looks down at the scar, and his mouth forms a small ‘oh.’ “You know, I meant to ask Adam about that. It showed up when I had my own body back, so I thought he might know something. But then I got caught up in… in…” He trails off as he looks back up to Crowley, gaping like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Is – That’s your right arm, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it certainly is. I don’t have two left arms, obviously, so, for whatever reason –” he cuts off suddenly as Crowley shifts, his sleeve riding up his arm and revealing a similar-looking scar on his arm. His _right_ arm. His mind starts turning in the same direction Crowley’s is.

“Crowley?”

“Yeah?”

“Crowley – you’re a _demon_.”

“Yeah?”

“Crowley, I mean – Crowley, you’re a demon! God, we’ve been so _stupid_! You’re a demon!”

“_We established that_.”

“Your scar –”

“Got it from the Bentley. It was on fire earlier. Didn’t have time to heal it.”

Aziraphale runs a hand through his hair, still processing this information. “You’ve seen my scars, though! Why didn’t you recognize them?”

“Oh, because I’ve definitely been able to study my own back before!” Crowley shakes his head. “Honestly, angel, I thought you were the smart one! Besides, I was distracted when I saw your scars! I found out that the one that I love had a soulmate, and I didn’t think the universe would be so kind as to give me that –”

“You – You love me?”

Crowley looks shocked, runs what he said through his head again, and then nods sheepishly.

“Crowley, my dear, you’ve loved me since _Alexandria and you didn’t tell me?_”

“I wanted you to be with your soulmate!”

“You are my soulmate!” He rushes around the table, a joyous smile spread across his face. “Crowley, you’re my soulmate!” He takes Crowley’s sunglasses off and sets them on the table before grabbing Crowley’s shoulders and looking up into the beautiful amber eyes. “We found each other. We’ve been with each other all along.”

“Does that mean I get to kiss you now?”

Aziraphale answers by pulling him close, locking their lips in a kiss that melts away the ages they’ve spent longing for each other, thinking Aziraphale was destined for someone else. When they break apart, panting gently and melting into each other’s arms, Aziraphale mutters, “As many times as you want.”

Crowley pulls him closer, pressing Aziraphale’s head into his chest and kissing the top of his head. “I am _not_ losing you after waiting this long. We will get past Heaven and Hell. We have to.”

Aziraphale fishes around in his pocket and reveals the scrap of paper from the prophecy book. “We still have this,” he says, and Crowley is quick to let go of him and snatch it up, carefully re-reading it a few times. “I think I have an idea,” he says, finally.

“What is it, dear?”

“We have all night for that. First, I want another kiss.”

Aziraphale smiles up at him. “I’ll happily oblige.” He then stands on his tip-toes, connecting their lips once more in a similar, powerful kiss meant to overcome the gap of 6000 years spent close, but not quite, together.

~~~

“You can set that box down over there!” Aziraphale calls, pushing his chair into place in front of the cottage’s fireplace.

Anathema sets the heavy box down with a grunt. “You sure do have a lot of books.”

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, you collect a few things over time. I just wish Crowley would stop playing with the kids to give his opinion on this arrangement. It is his house, too, after all.”

Together, the pair looks out the window to the garden, where Crowley had been taking his boxes of plants and other related things, but he became distracted when Newton and Anathema showed with the Them to help with moving in. Anathema immediately started helping, but the kids quickly grew bored, so now Newton and Crowley occupy their attention with a game of tag, chasing each other with laughter and the occasional screech.

Anathema shakes her head. “Soulmates, huh? No matter what they do, we can’t get mad at them.”

Aziraphale hums in agreement, his thumb absentmindedly twirling the ring on his left hand. Crowley sticks his tongue out at one of the kids before seeing Aziraphale staring out the window at them. He straightens up, and a smile appears on his face as he waves. The moment is gone as soon as Pepper tags him, running off after them again.

“Be glad you found him so early,” Aziraphale says. “It took all too long for us to find out.”

She shrugs. “He showed up already hurt, so it was easy to find the same fresh scars appearing on my own body.”

“All earthly beings have a soulmate,” he nods. “Even an angel and a demon who have sided with the Earth.”

“You two deserve each other,” she smiles before pointing out the thin scar on Adam’s hand, close enough to the window that they can both see it. “He found that scar the other day. Suddenly wanted all the information I had on soulmates. Don’t be surprised if he starts asking questions about it over lunch.”

“I was worried he wouldn’t have one, so I’ll gladly answer any questions.” He looks at Crowley again. “Though, it might help to hear it from the original source.”

Anathema looks at her watch. “Speaking of lunch, we should do that soon. I can go start making sandwiches if you want to corral everyone in?”

“Of course.” They split up, and Aziraphale takes a deep breath as he steps into the yard. “Come on in then, you rapscallions, unless you don’t want food.”

Crowley groans. “Angel, no one even knows what rapscallion means anymore. Your vocabulary is so outdated.”

The kids rush by him to go to the kitchen, and Newton dutifully follows as Crowley approaches Aziraphale. “But you still love me,” Aziraphale says cheekily.

He pecks Aziraphale on the lips. “But I still love you.” He wraps his arm around Aziraphale’s waist, pulling him along. “Come on, angel. I heard Anathema brought an apple pie.”

Aziraphale’s eyes light up, and Crowley starts to laugh, his shoulders relaxed in a way they never have before. He can’t help but press another small kiss against Aziraphale’s cheek.

The two beings walk into the cottage together – an angel scarred by a demon, and a demon blessed by an angel.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over here on [tumblr](https://pearlll09.tumblr.com) if you want to talk! I reblog a lot of good omens stuff


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